Seeing Red
by Sweet Lunacy
Summary: Mrs. Lovett steals one of our beloved barber's razors, but when he discovers why, he may feel sympathetic..maybe. A very angsty Mrs. Lovett..yes, I know it's out of character, but it's meant to be.
1. The Water Runs Red

Mrs. Lovett tip-toed her way up the stairs leading to Sweeney Todd's barber shop so as not to disturb him. When she opened the door, much to her relief, the barber was nowhere to be found. She approached the table slowly and picked up one of his razors. She admired how clean he kept them, the way they shined in the dimmest of light.

She knew if he found her in his shop and touching his razors, he would kill her, so without bothering to put the razor back in its place, she pocketed it and dashed out of his shop, shutting the door quickly behind her.

Once in the safety of her own room, she took out the razor and examined it more closely. Without even thinking about what she was doing, she slid the cool blade across her wrist, watching as the blood slowly flowed from the cut. Surprisingly, she found it did not hurt. On the contrary..it felt quite...pleasant. As if all her troubles were being washed away. After setting the razor on her beside table, she laid down wearily on her bed, giving in to the wave of sleep that washed over her.

Sweeney opened the door to his barber shop stiffly. He had just returned from his walk around town, and as he entered, he sensed something wasn't quite right. He noticed his razor case was open on the table and upon further inspection, realized that one of his precious razors was missing. He made his way slowly down the stairs and began to walk down Fleet Street to clear his mind. Who had taken his razor, and why? These two simple questions, yet he had no answer.

Perhaps Mrs. Lovett would know, he decided. He turned and headed back toward Mrs. Lovett's pie shop, opening the door slowly. The boy, he saw, was in a drunken sleep on the couch, and though it was in the middle of the day, Mrs. Lovett was nowhere to be seen. He tried checking the kitchen, but found it was in vain. He pushed open her bedroom door, feeling a bit uncomfortable, because she had not given him permission to enter.

His uneasiness vanished when a gleam of silver caught his eye: his razor. Relieved that he now held it between his slender fingers, he now wondered how and why his razor had come to be in her room. He noticed the droplets of blood that were spattered on the blade and now grew angry at the thought of someone else using his razor.

He roughly shook Mrs. Lovett and when she pulled away, he grabbed her wrist, not noticing when she cried out in pain.

"Mrs. Lovett..May I inquire as to how my razor came to be in your room?" he whispered dangerously.

He gripped her wrist tighter and she whimpered. He released her wrist and found blood on his fingertips. He pulled the sleeve of her dress back and located the source of the blood: a thin cut on her wrist.

"Mrs. Lovett...What is going on here?"

"Mr. T..I—I can explain.." she began.

"Then please do so."

She tried to pull away, but he did not loosen his grip.

"It..it helps.." she tried again.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Helps, Mrs. Lovett?"

"With the pain, Mr. Todd."

He still appeared confused, so she attempted to explain further.

"You see...It helps the pain not to be so bad. It's like all your troubles are drippin' away. It really does 'elp." They stared at each other, barber and baker, eyes locked in place, the moment broken only when they turned as they heard Toby's voice calling to her through the door. She whipped around to face him, alarm written on her face plainly.

"Cover it up," he ordered in a whisper, "Then tell the boy you're tired and want to be left alone."

She did as he asked, and when Toby's footsteps retreated, she found him standing behind her at the bowl filled with water, dipping a cloth slowly into it. He wrung it out, and approached her again. As he reached for her wrist, she shrank back and he sighed, irritated.

"Hold still, woman. I can't clean this if you keep moving. "

Too wary to challenge him, she remained still, wincing slightly as he applied pressure to her wrist as he wrapped the cut to control the flow of fresh blood. He tied the cloth securely in place, and continued to stare at the floor. He could feel her eyes on him, watching him, following his every move, and when he looked up at her, she shrank away slightly.

"That should hold. Now, if I ever catch you using one of my razors for anything other than killing the judge, I can guarantee you will never forget it."

"What if I don't use one of your precious razors?" she murmured softly.

"Let me rephrase," he whispered, dangerously close to her ear, "If I ever catch you using one of my razors or anything like a razor for something like that again, I guarantee you will never forget it."

He stood and walked away, shutting her door behind him. She leaned back against her pillow, silently fuming. Who was he to order her around as if she were a child? She blew her candle out and laid down to sleep, cursing under her breath.


	2. Who Painted The Moon Black?

**A/N: Well, here it is dearies. The second installment of "Seeing Red". This chapter will contain lyrics from Hayley Westenra's "Who Painted The Moon Black" and Miranda Lambert's "Love Your Memory".**

She watched him leave and found herself wanting him even more than before.

"Did you see the shiny moon turned into a black balloon just as you walked away from me?" she whispered soft;ly," Did you see how hard I've tried not to show the pain inside just as you walked away from me? Who painted the moon black just when you passed your love back? Who painted the moon black? Oh, won't you, won't you come back?"

A tear slid down her face, her thick auburn curls fell into her face and she instinctively brushed them away even though there was no one there to see her. She could hear his steady pacing in the shop above, and began to sing quietly to herself.

"I don't wanna see you or feel you. I don't wanna look into your eyes. I don't wanna touch you or miss you. I just wanna love your memory tonight."

She walked into her kitchen and approached the counter, pulling out her knife as she did so. She wiped the blade across her wrist and watched as the blood began to coat her arm slowly. She set the knife on the counter top and made her way slowly back to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She knew she had been forbidden to do anything of this nature again, but she was beyond caring. After all, who was he to order her around like that? Stupid man.

Rough hands shook her and she awoke with a start.

"Mrs. Lovett!"

"Hmm?"

A sharp pain across her face made her head snap back suddenly.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, woman?"

"What?" she asked, dazed.

"Your arm. I'm not blind."

He held it up to her eyes and she shrank back from him, horrified to discover the cut was clearly visible even in the dimmest of light.

"Mr. T, I—"

"Don't you 'Mr. T' me! I forbid you to do this again, did I not?"

"Yes." she whispered.

"Yet you felt the need to disobey me."

It was a statement, not a question.

"I'm not a child, Mr. Todd. Don't treat me like one. Why should I listen to you? You don't care about me anyway. You never will." she spat.

Much to his surprise, her words stung him, and he reached out toward her. She pulled away and he turned her face toward him.

"Look at me."

She didn't.

"Mrs. Lovett. Look at me."

Nothing.

"Nellie. Please."

She met his eyes. As angry as she was, she couldn't stop her heart from skipping a beat when she looked into his beautiful eyes any more than she could control her breathing when he leaned toward her. As their lips met, and her eyes closed, she knew she had never been happier.

"I do care." he whispered, his breath warm on her face.

"Benjamin.." she whispered.

He froze. Too late she realized her mistake and looked at him, her eyes wide.

**A/N: Dun dun dunnnnn...Poor Mrs. Lovett. Reviewers will receive a Sweeney-in-a-pocket, Mrs. Lovett-in-a-pocket or a Toby-in-a-pocket. You can have a meat pie if you wish. I'll update as soon as I can. I have finals soon, so it may take awhile. My sincerest apologies.**


	3. The Annoying Voice In Sweeney's Head

**A/N: Well, I passed all my finals and classes. Here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it.**

"_Benjamin.." she whispered._

_He froze. Too late she realized her mistake and looked at him, her eyes wide._

"What did you just say, Mrs.Lovett?"

Dimly she registered the use of her surname. Too frightened to move, she sat stone still, her eyes wide, shaking slightly.

"How many times do I have to remind you that Benjamin Barker is dead? Dead! Do you understand?"

Silently, the red head shook, too afraid to speak. Frightened though she was, Mrs. Lovett knew that she could not let her beloved barber see her weakness, so she opted to wait until he had left her to let her tears fall. He stood and made his way to the door, shutting it behind him as he exited. Pulling one of her various kitchen knives out from behind her pillow, she then proceeded to make yet another cut on her delicate white skin, watching the crimson blood flow, thickly coating her snow white skin, staining it red...

His footsteps were heavy and loud as he paced continuously in his shop.

"Damn woman.." he muttered quietly, "I try to be somewhat kind to her and she calls me "Benjamin"! Benjamin Barker is dead! It's Sweeney Todd who shall have his revenge."

_If it was Benjamin Barker who was married to Lucy, then shouldn't _he _be the one to kill the judge? Why would Sweeney Todd care? _

"Oh, shut up." he told the voice.

_Why? Just because you're too scared to— _

"I am _not _scared!"

—_admit that you actually care for Mrs. Lovett—_

"I do not."

_You do, _the voice argued, _You care, you just don't want to admit it. You even told her that you cared. She's not going to forget that. She's very practical, as you've often said._

"Shut up!" he shouted. "Shut up!"

"Mr. Todd?"

He turned, startled. He hadn't known anyone was there.

"What is it, boy?"

"It—it's Mrs. Lovett, sir."

"I don't care. Now—"

"Sir, she won't wake up. Please come. Please."

The demon barber sighed and followed the boy downstairs and into Mrs. Lovett's. He pushed open the door to her room and sighed, irritated.

"Mrs. Lovett. Wake up. I've had just about enough of this for one evening, "

When she didn't answer, he shook her gently but roughly.

"Mrs. Lovett."

He turned to go, but as he did so, something caught his attention. Looking back, his stomach dropped as a terrible fact came crashin down on him: the woman wasn't breathing...

**A/N: Tada...Reviewers get a Sweeney-in-a-pocket, complete with razors and a Nellie-in-a-pocket (new item!), complete with rolling pin and meat pies. **


	4. He Cares?

**A/N: I am sooooooooooooooooo sorry I haven't updated in so long. I am indeed alive, (although sick at the moment) and I am finally not too busy to write this chapter. If I owned Sweeney, Mrs. Lovett would still be alive and with Sweeney. Lucy would be dead...I hate her. ahem Anyway, here you go.**

"Mrs. Lovett. Wake up."

He moved the sheet to wake her and when he did so, he noticed the bed was stained crimson with blood. He shook her roughly and when she didn't respond, he grew faintly concerned. He turned to the door and called for Toby, who came instantly.

"Go fetch the doctor."

"Why, sir? Is Mrs. Lovett—"

"Go! Quickly! Now!"

Toby did not need telling again. He bolted for the door and ran out into the night. A slight movement caught his attention, and he turned. Mrs. Lovett was now breathing, but had still not awakened. He moved to her side and took her bloodstained wrist in his white hands, feeling for a pulse. It was faint, but still there, and he let out a sigh.

Toby returned with the doctor an hour later and found the pie shop deathly quiet. He ran into Mrs. Lovett's room and found the sight that greeted him very surprising indeed. Sweeney Todd was lying next to Mrs. Lovett, seemingly asleep. Unsure of what to do, he let the doctor handle the problem.

"Mr. Todd..."

Sweeney jerked awake and stared at the man before him. Dr. Mitchell moved to examine Mrs. Lovett and Sweeney suddenly felt a strange feeling of protectiveness overwhelm him. The doctor checked her pulse and her breathing before turning to the barber.

"Well, she'll live, Mr. Todd, but I don't want her doing anything strenuous for awhile. Understand?"

He nodded. The doctor left without a goodbye, leaving Sweeney alone with her. She began to stir and when her eyes opened, she found herself staring at a worried looking Sweeney Todd.

"Mr. T? What are you—"

"What did I tell you? What did I tell you, Mrs. Lovett?"

His fear was quickly turning to anger because he had realised she had yet again disobeyed him. Mrs. Lovett stared at him apprehensively, not wanting to make things worse for herself, but wanting to defend herself as well.

"Mr. Todd, please listen to me. Please let me explain."

"Go on."

"I didn't mean to cut so deep. It was an accident. I swear."

"Mrs. Lovett, why? Think of the people who care about you."

Her hollow laugh made him very uneasy indeed.

"Who? Who cares?"

"The boy..Toby. He cares."

"What about you?"

He had known it was coming, but was still taken aback. He took her hand in his and kissed it gently.

"Yes, Mrs. Lovett," he whispered, dangerously close to her lips, "I care about you. Very much."

He kissed her and felt her wrap her arms around him. He didn't, much to his surprise, feel guilty or disgusted by her kissing him back. When he pulled away, she was smiling.

"I love you." she whispered.

"I know, my pet. I know." was his reply as he kissed her again.


End file.
